Jokers Story
by GoodLuckTroll
Summary: 2 months after UNMASKED. the Joker reveals the tragic story of his past to an Arkham Doctor.  NOTE: the end of the story says the next part in the UNMASKED Saga. it is NOT hell freezes over, it is now Heir to the Throne


**JOKERS' STORY**

Dr. Marshall sat patiently at a table. The table was old, words, pictures and symbols were carved into every inch of it. All the patients making their marks in the table, Marshall thought.

Edward Nygma, the Riddler, left about a dozen question marks in the table. Victor Zsasz left countless tally marks, Harvey dent, Two-face, carved a face that was half smiling, half frowning. And then, to fill the rest of table were smiles and "Ha Ha's", left by the Joker.

The Joker.

Marshall's patient for the day.

How many times the clown had been locked up here in Arkham Asylum, nobody could count. He had been interviewed so many times as well…but today was different. Today, the Joker had asked to be interviewed.

Marshall looked around the room. It was a small room; the walls were dark, cold, gloomy and growing with moss. No wonder Arkham has so many breakouts, he thought, the walls are breakable as a toothpick.

The only source of light was a light bulb on the ceiling. It was dim, and didn't light up the room too much.

There was a knock on the rusty, iron door; the bangs echoed in the room and made Marshall jump in fright.

"He's here now" the security guard outside the door announced, opening it.

The door creaked opened and scraped the stone floor.

And in walked…

"Well, hello doctor" the Joker said, dressed in a prison jacket and handcuffed. "I Believe I have an appointment today".

"Please, have a sit" Marshall said, offering a chair on the other side of the table.

"How kind"

Joker sat down. He pulled the chair in and rested his handcuffed hands in his laps; he was silent, and grinning…like always.

"I don't think the handcuffs are necessary" Marshall said, taking out a key from his pocket.

"Oh, you're kinder than I thought"

Joker rested his hands on the table and allowed the doctor to undo the handcuffs. He slowly rubbed the bruises on his wrists, black against the white skin.

"Do you know why I asked to be interviewed?" Joker asked.

"I hope to find out" Marshall replied, setting up a voice recorder.

"Oh, I have seen that little beauty so many times. I really should think of a name for it…how about Ivan?"

"Very funny. Now, recording has begun, we will begin this interview. Now, Joker, why did you want to be interviewed".

The Joker was silent for a moment, and stared at the table.

"Everyone is aware of the big party we threw for Batman a few months ago. How good ol Riddler discovered his true identity, Bruce Wayne".

"Yes, I remember the incident. I nearly died in the chaos that was brought on this city".

"Heh heh, really? It was glorious chaos wasn't it? We may not have killed the Bat, but, we certainly wounded him for life. Now that is something I can live with. But, there has always been something equal between the Bat and I. Both of us have dark pasts, we are both insane; from my view of course, we are twins, The Alpha and Omega. But now, I feel there is an unbalance in our conflicting brotherhood. He was unmasked; the world knows who the Bat is now. But me, his sworn brother, I am still wearing mine".

"Your willing" Marshall started, leaning in close, "to tell the story of your past?"

"Bingo"

"I won't believe it. Every story you have told of your previous life, has been proved to be a lie. Why should this be any different?"

"Why shouldn't it?"

Marshall sat back; he was silent. He made sure the voice recorder was working, and then leaned in closer again.

"I'm listening"

"Oh ho…excellent. Where can I begin? Are you aware of the crime boss Maroni?"

"Yes. He is known for creating Two-Face out of Harvey Dent"

"Good answer. My name was Francis 'Jack' Napier; I was a good friend of Salvatore Maroni, before he became the mobster he is today. I helped him become that mobster; I was his number one guy. He often compared his gang to a deck of cards, him being a King, his girlfriend a Queen…I was the Jack, hence my nickname.

The alley was dirty. There were two dumpsters at either end of the alley, filled to the brim with garbage. There were several puddles along the alley, dirty with wet cigarettes and mud.

A man in his mid twenties wearing a brown overcoat loitered in the middle of the alley, smoking a cigarette. The mans name was Salvatore Maroni. His name had become recent news to Gotham, as a rising criminal. But it wasn't big news to the city, crime had literally taken over the city in the last 30 years.

Another man, in early twenties, walked down the alley. He also wore an overcoat, black, however.

"How you doing, Jack?" Maroni greeted.

"Not too good" Jack answered. "Some of your boys were giving me some pretty bad jokes".

Maroni chuckled.

"I got a job for you tonight. Quick and easy, big reward"

"For me?"

"For all of us. You do this, and we'll become the biggest mobsters this town has seen".

Jack nodded his head.

"Who am I killing?"

"Wayne"

"Thomas Wayne? The Billionaire"

"Yep"

"I don't think he'll be carrying a billion dollars in his pocket, Sal"

"No…but he'll be carrying his cards for his bank accounts. It might take us some time to work out the codes them, but the wait will be worth it".

Jack turned his back to Maroni, walking to one end of the alley.

"Where do I find him?"

"He's at the performance hall over in old Gotham. Get him cornered so nobody sees"

"I'll see what I can do"

Joe Chill had lost everything. His home, his wife, his money; everything. He curled up and tried to sleep in an old alley, a bottle of vodka at his side.

"Say, buddy" a man said beside him.

"What?" Joe grunted.

"You wanna get back on track; get your money flowing back in?"

"Yeah" Joe said, wide eyed and shaking.

"Takes this" the man handed Joe a revolver. "It'll help"

"What do I do with this?"

"There'll be a couple coming out of a theatre down the road shortly. They'll be wearing expensive clothes, because their rich"

The word rich almost made Joe jump.

"Follow them, corner them into an alley, and take all their money once you've killed them. It will be enough to get you back on track"

Joe laughed. "Sure thing"

Later that evening, Joe was waiting outside the theatre. People walked past, unwilling to give him money. He didn't care, he was going to get more than these people earn in a year.

The theatre doors opened, and people poured out. They were all wearing rich, expensive clothes. And then, he saw the couple. Joe made his move, and followed them, keeping back a few paces so he wouldn't scare them away.

The couple walked down a dark alley, they couldn't handle being squashed in the crowds walking along the streets. Joe followed even more quickly, his footsteps echoed.

The couple turned around to face the broken man aiming a gun at them

"What…?"

There was a gunshot. It echoed through the alleyway, birds flew away from their hiding places. The woman screamed as her husband fell to the ground, before she was shot as well.

Joe slowly lowered the gun; his face had broken out into sweat. He stared into the eyes of a little boy; his face was pale and shocked. Joe walked towards the two dead bodies, gun pointed at the boy. He kneeled down, took both wallets, and then smiled at the boy before running off.

"…and then poor Joe bumped back into me" Joker told the doctor. "He realized he had been double-crossed, and I took the wallets and purse clean out of his hands. He kept the gun, and became a mindless criminal".

"So" Marshall said eyes wide. "The death of Thomas and Martha Wayne is your fault"

"Yes"

"And Bruce Wayne's rise as Batman, was your unintended doing"

"Ironically. I was amazed that I created him, and then he created me…small world, huh doc"

"Then what happened?"

"It took us months, a year; even, to get the numbers for Wayne's credit cards. But when we did, we had so much money that we shot straight to the top of crime, half the city was shaking in their boots. For the next 10 years, I think, we became Gotham City's biggest mob…"

Francis 'Jack' Napier looked out the window over Gotham City. Every person out there, every innocent human was toy in a game. A game that he and his boss, Salvatore Maroni, were playing very well at. The game ended tonight, though.

"What did you want to see me for?" Maroni said at the back of the room, pouring out two glasses of whiskey. "Want to have some fun? I heard that an orphanage is taking in a big stash of cash over at the reservoir".

Napier tilted his head.

The room was majestic; it was like the office of a mansion, Napier thought to himself. Maybe even better than what Wayne Manor has, come to think of it.

"Something on your mind?" Maroni asked, moving next to Napier and handing him a glass of Whiskey. Napier took a sip.

"I'm leaving your organization"

Maroni chuckled. "That's a good one"

Maroni sat down at his desk, marveling at its smooth surface.

"I'm not joking Sal. I'm leaving tonight" Napier said, turning to face Maroni with a stern look on his face.

"Jack, why would you want to leave? The cops may have figured out how we were getting the money and that young Bruce Wayne is getting it now, some of our boys may have died over the years, but that doesn't mean you have to leave".

"No, I do have to leave. I found the love of my life, and I'm giving up my old life to start a new one"

Maroni nodded, sculling down the last of his whiskey. He threw it at the window and it smashed into pieces, the window cracked. Napier didn't move.

"You listen to me, you son a bitch" Maroni grunted. "You can leave for all I care, but you will regret it. You were my best guy, and one day, you will face the consequences"

Napier nodded, and walked out of the room.

He took an elevator down to the ground floor. He left the building; a car was waiting for him outside. Napier got into the passenger seat; a young woman was in the driver's seat.

"What did he say?" she asked.

"He said I will regret it" Napier sighed. "But I can regret nothing, now that I'm with you, Ellie"

Napier and Ellie kissed, before driving off into the night.

"Boy was I wrong when I said I wouldn't regret anything" Joker told Marshall, chuckling. "I spent the next three years married to Ellie, a happy life".

"Then why did you turn back to crime?" Marshall asked. "Why did you become a criminal known as…the Red Hood?"

"Now _this_ is where the story gets exciting" Joker chuckled.

A man pushed open the back door of a comedy club, storming out of the bulding into an alley. How many times Napier had been in an alley in the past 20 years, he thought to himself.

He didn't laugh. No one laughed at the jokes he was making at the comedy club, so why should he laugh?

Napier walked down the street to a pub. It was raining, and he was cold.

Nothing a couple of shots of whiskey can't help.

He sat down at the bar. He was the only man there, except for some other poor soul at the end of the bar.

"Another bad night?"

Napier turned around to see his beautiful wife coming up to kiss him.

"Yeah" Napier replied, Ellie sat down next to him. "I don't have the laughing material I used to have. I even tried a few jokes about that Batman fellow; nothing seemed to tickle their funny bones".

"I know you'll be able to tickle junior's funny bones" Ellie said encouragingly, rubbing her stomach. She had been pregnant for 8 months now. Napier rubbed Ellie's stomach, forcing a smile. It wasn't long now, before he can teach his son or daughter how to ride a bike.

Napier slept till midday the next day. Ellie had gone shopping.

When he woke up, he found a note on the fridge.

MEET ME AT THE STATUE IN GRANTS PARK

Napier chuckled. Another one of Ellies games, no doubt. He pulled on some clean clothes and drove to Grants Park; it was a partially cloudy day.

He walked to the statue. There was someone there, waiting for him.

It wasn't Ellie

"Hello Jack"

Napier slowed, and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Sal, what are you doing here?"

"Just thought we'd have a reunion. Nice job on your woman, Jack, I always knew you had good taste".

"Sal" Napier said with tense. "Where is Ellie?"

"She's safe…so long as you do what I say"

Napier wasn't going to argue with Maroni. He was too dangerous.

"What do you want?"

"I want you to do a job for me, one that only you would have the skills to do. As you know, I've been having a gang war with the bastard Russian. He owns a card factory over in Cape Carmine…I want you to clean the place out"

"By myself?"

"No, I'll have two of my boys escort you there. Keep you safe…make sure you don't try and runaway"

"I'll meet them outside the factory, if that's okay?"

"Sure. Before you go, wear this"

Maroni handed Napier a suitcase.

"What is it?" Napier asked, taking the suitcase.

"It's a costume I came up with…the Red Hood. It'll cover your identity should the cops show up…or the Batman"

Napier winced. The Batman was a recent fear amongst crime in the city, a man dressed as a bat that fought crime…at least it might have been a man, or something else.

"Fine. But Maroni, if you betray me, if this is a double-cross…I'm coming after you".

"Why didn't you go for help?" Marshall asked.

"I was scared, doctor" Joker replied. "I was scared for Ellie, scared for myself. If Maroni knew that I went for help…anyway, let's move on with this story.

It was that night when I became the Red Hood, and raided the card factory. It was also the night I became what I am today, and came face to face for the first time…with my brother"

It was near midnight.

Napier, or the Red Hood, waited on top of a building that was just a few meters taller than the card factory opposite. Steam was pouring out of the chimneys, and workers were still heading home after a hard days work and the night guards were starting their shift.

The Red Hood costume Napier wore was a black tuxedo, fixed with a red cape and a red, domed helmet. The glass was also slightly red, making it hard for Napier to notice the right colors of things.

"Napier?"

Napier turned to face two badly dressed thugs. Despite their dirty appearance, they were both armed with handguns which made them look dangerous.

"Yeah, I'm Napier" Napier greeted.

"A bit early ain't ya?" one of the thugs, wearing a beanie, asked.

"Just observing the scene were about to turn into a crime scene. There are too many guards to get onto the factory grounds on foot, so…"

Napier opened up a metal crate that was next to him, there was a launcher of some kind in it.

"We go by air"

He fired the launcher; a large hook leading a wire shot across the factory grounds and smashed a window. None of the guards noticed anything, amazingly.

Napier pulled on the wire to make sure it was stable.

"I knew I should have brought the rest of the equipment" Napier groaned.

"What, we need to _climb_ across?" one of the thugs asked.

"Yep. I hope you boys have muscles in your arms, it's gonna take a while"

Within 20 minutes, Napier and the thugs were halfway across the wire, high above the factory grounds. One wrong move would be fatal…for all of them, should the guards open fire on whoever was left hanging.

"How much further?" the thug at the back complained.

"Not far. Keep it up, we're almost there"

Soon enough, the three criminals were inside the main office of the factory. The hook had broken what looked like a very expensive portrait of the factories' creator. The wind whistled through the broken window.

"What are we looking for?" Napier asked.

"The Russian is supposed to have a safe in here. Apparently he's hiding blueprints to a bank somewhere in the middle of Gotham; Maroni wants them so he can rob the place himself".

"Maroni's still robbing banks after all these years?" Napier scoffed.

The thugs started searching the room, trying to find the safe. They threw tables, chairs and pictures everywhere. The office was a mess.

"It's gotta be here somewhere" one of the thugs grunted.

"It is" Napier encouraged. "Give me your gun"

The thug handed Napier his gun, he shot the wire and it snapped from the hook.

"Pull the hook out" Napier ordered.

The thugs groaned as they struggled to pull the hook out of the smashed portrait, the hook was nearly the size of a ship anchor. Eventually they removed it from the portrait; behind the smashed portrait was the safe. Napier shot the lock and it came open. It was empty, except for a boomerang…in the shape of a bat.

"Oh shit" one the thugs started crying. "Oh shit, oh shit. He's here, we're dead. The Batman is here and were dead"

"Shut up!" Napier yelled.

"You don't order us around, Jack!" the other thug yelled

"Maroni put me in charge, I tell…"

"Heh, he didn't tell you the full point of being the Red Hood, did he?"

"What?"  
"The Red Hood isn't a place of being the boss. It's a punishment, to anyone who pisses off Maroni. The person is either tricked, or forced, into becoming the Red Hood until we do what we have to do. We got we want, now…we don't need you anymore"

Napier was furious. He had been double-crossed, he should have known from the beginning.

"So long, Jack" the thug sneered, aiming his gun at Napier.

The thug grabbed his hand in pain as a bat-shaped boomerang flew out of nowhere and cut his hand. He dropped the gun and rolled on the floor in pain. Napier slowly turned his head to the broken window, and there…

"It's the Bat!" the other thug screamed, making a run for the door. Batman fired a claw of some kind which wrapped around the thugs foot and tripped him over. He was dragged towards his attacker, screaming for mercy.

Napier didn't waste time. He ran for the door, kicked it down and ran out into the factory. He was on a catwalk, high above several large vats of chemicals; they were a sickly green color. Steam from the chemicals obscured much of the factory from vision, but Napier could make out the shapes of chains hanging from the ceilings, ladders, stairs, other catwalks and control panels.

"I won't let him get me" Napier gasped to himself. "I won't!"

Napier made a run across the catwalk. The Batman dropped from the ceiling and blocked Napier's path. He stumbled back, and shakingly aimed his gun at his foe.

"Don't come any closer!" Napier warned.

Batman took one step. Napier fired every bullet in his gun, it did nothing to Batman.

"What the…?"

Napier pulled out a knife from beneath his tuxedo. He swung and stabbed aimlessly, trying to scar the immortal creature attacking him. He finally cut Batman across his belly, Batman yelled in pain.

"Heh, you're human after all" Napier chuckled nervously. He swung again, only to have his wrist caught and twisted, dropping the knife. Napier kneed Batman in the gut, Batman let go of Napier's wrist and punched him twice in the face. Napier still stood, but was dazed.

Batman finally threw an uppercut. Napier was thrown off his feet over the railing, and fell.

Napier cried in shock as he fell towards the vat of chemicals below him. There was splash, and the thickness of the liquid green hid Napier from sight. Batman, watching, slowly crept back into the rising steams…and was gone.

All was silent.

The chemicals bubbled.

A hand reached out and grabbed hold of the brim of the huge basin…it was white, chalk white.

Napier climbed out of the vat of chemicals and fell to the floor, leaving a puddle of green liquid around him. His body was burning, the chemicals had burnt his skin like acid, and his skin was still stinging.

Gasping for breath, Napier took of the red helmet and let it drop to the floor; the cape fell off the tuxedo. Napier walked around the factory, dazed, trying to find something. He finally found a mirror, it was slightly cracked, it's edge rusted. He looked at himself in the mirror…and saw…

His skin; every inch of it, was chalk white. His hair was green, and his lips were bright red.

Napier gasped in horror at the sight of himself, what the chemicals had done to him…what Maroni had done to him. A rage was burning inside him, and he was going to let that rage grow greater.

Maroni looked out over Gotham city. Somewhere in that city, some poor soul by the name of Napier was being double-crossed. Maroni chuckled…punishment is sweet from the judge's point of view.

Suddenly, the doors at the back of the office flew open. Maroni turned to see a man standing there, he was dripping in water. At least Maroni thought it was water.

"You…cheating, lying bastard!" the intruder accused.

"Napier?" Maroni gasped.

"What, aren't you goin to call me Jack?" Napier said, moving towards Maroni and into the light. Maroni winced at the horrific sight.

"What the…"

"Look what you did to me!" Napier yelled, holding a gun at Maroni.

"Nap…Jack, I swear, I had nothing…"  
"Bullshit, Maroni! Your thugs told me the purpose of the Red Hood! Where is Ellie?"

"If I tell you, will you let me go?" Maroni asked nervously, holding his hands up.

"Yeah…for now. Where is she?"

Napier stood next to a hospital bed. He had snuck, the lights were out, the hospital was closed and empty, except for him, its patients…and Ellie.

She was dead. Napier collapsed next to Ellie's bed, tears pouring from his eyes. He looked into the face of his beautiful, dead wife. He cried even more fiercely, resting his head on his folded arms. He cried for a while at Ellie's bed…then there was silence…

And then…

Napier chuckled. Despite what had happened to him, he chuckled.

The chuckling turned into a quiet, continuous laugh that grew louder as Napier walked out of Ellie's room.

He walked staggeringly down the long hospital hall. There were still a few, dim lights on; casting shadows over Napier's chalk white face. His laughing grew even louder as he neared the exit, and when he walked out of the hospital he spread his arms, looked up into the night sky and laughed like a maniac. It was on this night…

"That Gotham's, greatest villain…was born" The Joker concluded his story. Marshall sat there silently; a tear was running down his cheek.

"Don't look so upset, doc" Joker said. "I'm sure you can find something to laugh about in that story. If I was crying, it'd be tears of joy…how many awards do you think I can get for a film adaption?"

"I don't see what there is to laugh about" Marshall said, wiping his face. "There is so much tragedy in that story".

"I know, it's good isn't it?"

"And, that is your true history?"

"Indeed. You should be able to tell though; you have the lie detector strapped up to me. Is it going to hurt when you peel to the sticky tape off? I just got through a ton of bruises since I last fought the Bat"

Marshall sighed, and undid the cords strapped to Jokers wrists. He packed the lie detector away, and brought some files to the table.

"What's this, then?"

"If your story is true, which I do believe it is, then these files here are going to shock you more than you shocked me".

"Oh really, well I don't believe they will"

"Please…just read them"

Next story in the UNMASKED saga…

Hell Freezes over


End file.
